


Just as Far In as You'll Ever Be Out

by kee



Series: JOB 'verse [9]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kee/pseuds/kee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only so much Jared can take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just as Far In as You'll Ever Be Out

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday fic for tcs1121. Title from _Breathe_ by Anna Nalick.

Jared’s not a nervous flier, but he never particularly enjoys the experience. Stale peanuts, recycled air, and in-flight movies he’s either already seen, or has no desire to see – it’s not his idea of a good time. The novelty of flying wore off for him a long time ago. Now, it’s like being strapped into a very uncomfortable recliner with zero leg room, which is unfortunate, because Jared has very long legs. Even with the first-class upgrade Jensen surprised him with, he still feels like a pretzel, twisted up in too small a space. His elbow keeps knocking into his seatmate’s on the shared armrest.

They’d chatted during take-off, so Jared knows her name is Marie. She’s been in Hawaii for her college roommate’s wedding, and is clearly not thrilled to be leaving sun, sand and tropical drinks with tiny umbrellas to return to the daily grind. Under any other circumstances, Jared would empathize. Usually, he hates the feeling he gets as a break winds down. It reminds him of how it used to be on Sunday nights as a kid, the carefree feeling of a weekend giving way to the realization that tomorrow is a school day, and the real world’s waiting. Now, though, Jared’s _real world_ consists of playing make-believe for a living and ending every day with Jensen in his bed.

Marie can keep her sun and sand, Jared’s more than happy with his daily grind.

It’s only halfway through the six-hour flight from Honolulu to YVR, and Jared has a major case of the fidgets. He’d booked the red-eye on purpose, not wanting to lose a day to travelling, but he can’t sleep. The paperback he’d picked up at the airport isn’t holding his attention, and no matter how many times he checks his watch, time doesn’t seem to move any faster.

He checks again anyway, bumping Marie one more time. “Sorry.”

“No worries.” She smiles a bit and glances down to where Jared’s knee is bouncing as if the motion alone can make the plane fly faster. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so anxious to have their vacation be over. You either had a horrible time or she must really be something.”

“She?”

“Nobody’s this excited to go back to work. There’s got to be a girl.”

No, there doesn’t really have to be a _girl_ , but Jared doesn’t bother to correct her. He simply grins and checks his watch again. Two hours and forty-three minutes to go. 

He can’t wait to get home.

\+ || + || +

Jared’s unbuckling his seatbelt and powering up his phone as the plane taxis to the gate. The second he hears the _ding_ , he’s on his feet and grabbing his bag from the overhead compartment. He says a quick _good-bye_ to Marie and an even quicker _thank you_ to the flight attendant standing at the door.

After over three years of flying in and out of Vancouver, Jared knows YVR like the back of his hand. He can make it to baggage claim in his sleep. In fact, he’s pretty sure there have been times that he _has_. He listens to his voicemail as he makes his way through the airport. One from Megan, thanking him again for the trip, but nothing from Jen. There’s a pang of disappointed, but then he just feels ridiculous. It’s not like he won’t be seeing Jensen soon.

He walks a little faster. 

A quick glance at his ticket to remind him of his flight number, and then he’s heading toward the appropriate baggage carousel, scanning the crowd as he goes. Normally, they pick each other up curbside, but it’s been a _week_. If Jensen is missing Jared half as much as Jared is missing him, he’s parked the damn car and is waiting for Jared here.

After a few minutes that feel like an hour, Jared finally spots a familiar face, but it’s not the one he’s expecting.

The fact that Misha is here instead of Jen is enough to make Jared’s heart stop. The expression he’s wearing starts it beating again, double time. Misha’s expression makes it impossible for Jared to kid himself that Jensen merely got hung up on set and Misha’s just doing a favor for a friend. Jared’s never seen Misha look this serious, not even as Castiel. And a serious Misha means bad things.

_Seriously_ bad things.

Time slips, and for an instant, the bustling airport feels like the open air of a city park. Jared shivers at the memory and his tone falls somewhere between total panic and absolute rage. “What happened? Where’s Jensen?”

Misha flinches and takes a small step backwards. “He’s okay, Jared.”

“Clearly. That’s why _you’re_ here. Don’t fuck with me, Misha. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“He’s at home. We had a bit of a scare. He’s not exactly okay right this second, but he will be. I swear.”

“Misha.”

“Look. The airline’s sending someone with your bags tomorrow and I left my car in the tow-a-way zone. We need to get going. We can talk on the way.”

A part of Jared knows that what Misha’s saying makes total sense; they can talk just as easily in the car. But, a larger part is frozen by the _not knowing_ , all of the possibilities running through his mind, zigging and zagging until they crash into one another.

Misha takes Jared by the arm and murmurs, “Jensen’s waiting for you.”

And _that_ gets Jared moving again.

\+ || + || +

Jared waits until Misha has pulled out of the airport and merged onto the freeway. And it costs him, goddamn, does it cost him. But, Misha drives like a maniac under the best of circumstances. Jared would like to reach Jensen in one piece, so it would hardly pay to scare the shit out Misha while he’s weaving in and out of traffic. 

“Start talking.”

Misha flicks him a glance. “You’re a ‘rip the band-aid off fast’ sort of guy, right?”

Jared gets it, he does. Misha’s worried. And it’s not like he doesn’t have a reason. Jared doesn’t exactly take it well when shit goes down with Jen. Misha knows that, hell, _everyone_ knows that. Jared grits his teeth and scrambles for his last thread of patience.

“I’m not a ‘kill the messenger’ sort of guy, but I might be about to learn. Just fucking _tell_ me.”

“Jensen was having trouble breathing, so we took him to the emergency room.”

“He has a cold.” Jared knows about the cold because Jen had practically sneezed in Jared’s face when they kissed good-bye a week ago. It had been hilarious. Jensen had written it off to allergies, but as Jared’s week in Hawaii had worn on, Jen’s voice had gotten raspier and raspier during their nightly phone calls. Jared feels a wash of guilt, remembering how he’d teased Jensen, told him if he was going to use his _sex_ voice, he should actually put out with the phone sex. Jensen’s tired refusal makes a lot more sense now. “He said it was just a cold.”

“He thought it was.”

“He told me that he went to the medic. He fucking _promised_ me.”

“He _did_ , Jared. He went. And after basically calling him a wuss for coming in with a case of the sniffles, she told him…”

“That it was just a cold.”

Misha nods unhappily.

“Did Jensen make sure she knew his history? Nevermind, what was I thinking? Of course he didn’t.” Jared’s gripping his phone so tightly, it’s going to leave a permanent mark. “Tell me how we get from Jensen has a cold to Jensen can’t breathe.”

Misha’s reply is so quiet, Jared has to lean forward to hear him. “It’s not a cold?”

And there goes the last of Jared’s patience. “You’re _asking_ me?”

“God, no, of course not. Sorry. It’s not a cold.” Misha takes a deep breath, and Jared can’t help but find that more than a little ironic. “Jensen has walking pneumonia. They gave him IV antibiotics at the hospital. We were there for a few hours. There was some sort of treatment for his lungs, and then they sent him home with a prescription for more antibiotics and an inhaler. He was asleep when I left your house.”

Jared’s got a million questions, not the least of which is _why the fuck does this shit keep happening_ , but he narrows it down to what he knows Misha can actually answer. “Why didn’t you call me?"

“You were already on your way back. Jensen wouldn’t let me. He didn’t want to freak you out.”

No surprise there. That’s a totally Jensen thing to do. “Who’s with him now? Tell me you didn’t leave him alone. Or with Clif. Please, tell me you didn’t leave him with Clif.”

Misha gives an offended little huff. “Like I would _ever_. Vickie’s keeping an eye on him.”

Now Jared feels like an asshole. “Oh, man. I totally forgot she was up. This must be totally fucking with your weekend. I’m so ….”

“Jensen has already apologized. Like, five hundred times. We didn’t want to hear from him and we don’t need to hear it from you. We’re your friends, Jay. What else are we going to do? What would you or Jen do if it were the other way around?”

They’re turning on to Jared’s street. He reaches out and lays a hand on Misha’s arm as they pull into the driveway. “Thank you.”

Misha smiles for the first time tonight. It’s so much more at home on his face than the serious look he’s been wearing. “You’re welcome. Now, go see your boy.”

\+ || + || +

Jared all but runs into the house, determined to head straight for the bedroom, but he doesn’t need to go that far. Jensen is asleep on the couch, covered in the afghan Jared’s Grandma made, propped up by what looks to be practically every pillow they own. 

Harley rushes up, just about wagging his tail off, but Sadie doesn’t leave her spot, curled on the end of the couch at Jensen’s feet. Jared’s eyes sting. He doesn’t even mind that he’s not her favorite anymore. She’s such a _good_ girl.

He can hear music playing low in the kitchen, Vickie singing softly along. And something smells like Heaven. He looks at Misha. “She’s cooking?”

“Chicken soup.”

Jared chuckles weakly. “Universal cure-all.”

“He’s going to be fine, Jared.”

Jared sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I just wish he’d stop scaring the shit out of me.”

Misha’s raised eyebrow says, _do you really_ and _yeah, that’s never going to happen_ all at the same time. Jared sees the truth of both. The flip side of _having_ is the fear of _losing_. He wouldn’t be this scared if he didn’t love Jensen so much. That’s life. And Jared wouldn’t trade what they’ve found for worry free days, but Jesus, hasn’t the last year been _enough_?

Misha starts toward the kitchen. “I’ll just go see if the missus needs a hand. Give you guys some time.”

Jared walks over to Jensen, clearing the end of the coffee table in front of the sofa, so he can sit. Now that he’s closer, he can hear the vaguely wet rattle to Jensen’s breathing. Jensen’s mouth is slightly open, and despite of how sick he is, he’s not snoring. But, he is drooling. And Jared’s such a lovesick fool; he doesn’t even reach for his phone to snap blackmail pics. Instead, he lifts a barely shaking hand to cup the side of Jensen’s face. Jensen immediately tilts his head further into Jared’s palm, waking slightly and mumbling Jared’s name.

Jared should probably let him sleep, but he can’t help himself, he needs to talk to Jensen. Just for a minute. Just to be sure.

“Hey. Can you wake up, Jen? Can you do that for me?”

Jensen’s nose crinkles up when he frowns. “Sleepin’ now.”

“C’mon, Jen. Just for a little while, then you can go back to sleep. Please.”

It’s the _please_ that does it, of course. All Jared ever has to do is say please. Jensen rarely refuses Jared, and never when it’s something that matters. His eyes blink open slowly, but they do open. Clouded and groggy, but just as gorgeous as ever.

“Jay. You’re home.” He sounds like hell. Like he’s been swallowing broken glass and chasing it with a shot of gravel, but he sounds _happy_ , simply because Jared is here. “Hey.”

Jared sweeps his thumb across Jensen’s cheekbone. “Hey. Hear you’re not feeling so good.”

“’m sick.”

“Yeah. I know. I’m sorry, baby.”

Jensen reaches out and curls his hands into Jared’s shirt, pulling him closer, as a little bit of the fog starts to clear. “You’re here.”

Jensen tugs, so Jared goes. They wind up pressed forehead to forehead. Jared feels the burn of the bad angle across his lower back, but he really doesn’t give a damn. “I’m here.”

“Missed you.”

Jared pulls away just enough to press a kiss to Jensen’s brow. “I missed you, too.”

The slight curl in Jensen’s smile is definitely the beginning of a smirk. “You look good. All tan and stuff.”

“Thanks. You look like shit.”

“You say the sweetest things, Jay.”

“The whole truth and nothing but.”

“I take it back. I didn’t miss you at all.”

“Liar.”

The smirk is full-blown now. “ _Maybe_. What’d you bring me?”

“How do you know I brought you anything?”

“Jaaaaaaaaaay. It’s a rule. You go on vacation, you bring back presents.”

Jensen isn’t just sleepy, he’s downright loopy. All night, Jared’s been forcibly shoving down memories of the shooting and the aftermath, and this is one more thing that feels disturbingly familiar. He reaches over Jensen to get at the pill bottles sitting on the end table.

“You’re on pain meds? Misha didn’t say - Why are you on pain meds?”

Jensen gives a half shrug. “Pulled a couple of muscles coughing. It’s no big deal, Jay. I’ve had worse.”

Jared practically chokes as he slides a hand down to rest gently against Jensen’s chest. “Not helping.”

Jensen tangles their fingers together. “Sorry.”

“Sit up for a second.” Jared stands and lifts Jensen off the couch, maneuvering him until there’s room for both of them to lie down, Jensen wrapped securely in Jared’s arms. Sadie’s an unfortunate casualty and gets shoved off in the process, but she’s got to be used to it by now.

Jensen tucks his head under Jared’s chin. “We shouldn’t do this. I’m probably contagious.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will when you’re hacking up a lung.”

There’s a mental image Jared can do without. “Stop talking.”

“Excuse me. Who woke me up, just to talk to me?”

“That might have been me. But it sounds like it hurts, so I think you should stop now.” 

Jensen’s silence is enough indication that Jared is right. And why wouldn't he be? It hurts Jared just to listen. A whisper is Jensen’s idea of a compromise. “Tell me about your trip.”

“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

Jensen snorts. “Bullshit. You’re going to yell at me tomorrow.”

Absolutely true, but still a little funny. “There’s no reason why I can’t do both.”

“Tell me about Hawaii. Please.”

There’s that word again. And Jared can resist it just as well as Jensen, which is not at all.

“It was sunny and beautiful. Spending time with Meg was awesome but I was miserable every minute because I missed you. I don’t think I slept more than four hours a night, because I’ve forgotten how to sleep without you next to me. And I did buy you a present. It’s in my bag, but my bag is at the airport, because Misha had to come pick me up, because _you_ …” Jared’s voice, which had been rising steadily, chokes of abruptly, as he struggles against tears.

“Jay.”

“There’s only so much I can take, Jen. I leave you alone on set for an hour and you crash into spotlights. I go to Hawaii for six fucking days and you end up in the hospital because you can’t _breathe_. You cannot expect me to ever let you out of my sight, after this. You just _can’t_.”

Jensen lifts his head. “Then my master plan is coming along nicely.”

Shock punches a short laugh out of Jared. They were having a _moment_ , for Christ’s sake. “You fucker.”

The smirk Jensen had been wearing softens to a smile. “I love you, Jared.”

Jared can’t help but return the smile. “I love you, too.”

Jensen lays his head back down.

“But I’m still going to yell at you tomorrow.”

\+ || + || +

Jensen falls asleep like that, sprawled across Jared’s body. Jared runs his fingers through Jen’s hair, making little spikes, then smoothing them down. In a little while, he’ll ease out from under Jensen’s warmth and go say hello to Vickie. He’ll find out if that soup tastes as good as it smells. He’ll thank Misha one more time, and Misha will probably tell him to shut the fuck up. 

Tomorrow, there’ll be DVD marathons and possibly yelling at Jensen. Sunday will be more of the same, because what Jensen needs most right now is rest. Next week’s shooting schedule will be insane as things are shifted to give Jensen time to recover, because there’s no fucking way Jared is letting him go back to work on Monday. 

But all of that’s in a little while, or tomorrow, or Sunday, or Monday. For now, Jared holds Jensen close.

And takes a few minutes just to watch him breathe.

 

_END_


End file.
